Looking for the Devil
by E-MouseGirl
Summary: Sequel to Allies. Sam and Dean return to Chicago in search of a way to defeat Lucifer, but are in for more than they bargained for when Fallen Angels from Harry Dresden's rogues gallery get involved. Post Supernatural season 4 and Small Favor
1. For the books

Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of The Dresden files belong to Jim Butcher those of Supernatural to Eric Kripke and the WB. All I own is this story. This is uniquely for fun and absolutely no profit.

Looking for the Devil

Prologue

Dean slammed the large tome shut and pushed it aside. Wordlessly, Sam picked up another one from the pile on the table and placed it in front of his brother.

"We've been at this for two days Sam, not to mention going through Bobby's entire collection. So far, all I've got is we should look out for a guy with a scythe riding a pale horse. What makes you think we're going to find anything here?"

The two hunters were in Chicago for the second time in as many months. Their friend Bobby Singer had convinced one of his contacts to open his library of occult books to the Winchesters. With little reliable intel from the angels and a ticking Hell bomb somewhere out there, they were getting desperate for a way to destroy Lucifer. Having been tricked into letting the devil out of his cage, Sam refused to rest until he'd fixed his mistake, and while Dean was all for saving the world, the dust was starting to get to him.

"It's not like we have anything else to go on," Sam reminded his older brother.

Dean stared at the book for a second then ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, whatever. I'm going for coffee, you want anything?"

"I'm fine." His eyes never left the text in front of him.

The library's door opened in to the owner's bookstore, "Bock Ordered Books." A few patrons were browsing in the isles. Dean was halfway to the entrance when he spotted a Swedish Goth fashion model. She was carrying a stack of books and, every few seconds, would glance at the one on top and smile. Dean wandered over. She was tall and blonde and probably could be a model if she really wanted to. She was a little young for Dean's taste, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the view.

"Hey," he said, sneaking a peek at the book that interested her so much. It was a testament to the good impression a wizard had had on him that hunter didn't bristle at the title.

"Hi." The girl looked up and met his eyes for the briefest instant.

"An Introduction to Healing Magic, huh?"

"Yes. I've been wanting to learn it for a while now, and my teacher finally agreed."

"Good on him, or her," he added.

"Him," she confirmed.

"I'm Dean by the way."

Shifting the books to her left arm, she held out her right hand. "Nice to meet you Dean. My name's Molly."

Dean accepted the hand. Her slender fingers had a surprisingly good grip.

"So, Molly, should I look you up the next time I get hurt?"

She laughed. "Only if you can hold off for a few years. Harry warned me that healing magic takes a long time to master."

Before he could respond, a cheerful voice boomed behind them. "Molly!"

Dean spun around only to come face to face with a tall black man built out of slabs of muscle slapped on top of one another. The word "boyfriend" smacked into the hunter's brain so hard that he took a small step away from Molly.

"Sanya!" Being careful of her book, she gave the man a one-armed hug. "What are you doing here?" The girl radiated glee.

"I was visiting your father and thought I could pick you up. Who is your friend?" Sanya spoke with a thick Russian accent.

"This is Dean, we just met. Dean, this is Sanya."

Fearing for the health of his fingers, Dean opted for a nod of greeting instead of a handshake. "Hi."

"It is a pleasure to meet you."

The introductions were interrupted when Bock called Molly over to the register with the rest of her order. She paid and slid most of the books into her backpack, but held on to "An Introduction to Healing Magic."

"See you later Dean, try not to get hurt."

"Will do." Dean watched as she left, Sanya following her out.


	2. We're off to see the wizard

Chapter 1

Sam waited on the curb for his brother to bring the car around. Not wanting to leave the Impala parked on the street all day, Dean had placed her in a nearby underground parking. Sam wanted to use the time to do some last minute translation of a Hebrew text, but Bock had strongly suggested that he vacate the premises so they could both go home.

Though the weather was starting to cool this close to fall, summer still had it's teeth in and the sun wouldn't be setting for another hour or so. The younger Winchester was taking advantage of the light to go over his notes. Most of what had been written about Lucifer and the Apocalypse was either contradictory or didn't make any sense. Sam was starting to wonder if what they really needed wasn't St-Michael the Archangel and a fiery sword. Maybe he should start calling his brother St-Dean. Allowing himself a small smile at the image that name conjure up, he didn't notice the kid in the hoodie before he'd bumped into him and made him drop his notebook. Sam watched the kid's retreating back for seconds then shook his head. If disrespectful teenagers were a sign of the Apocalypse, the world would have ended a long time ago.

The sidewalk was littered with bits and pieces of trash, cigarette butts, an empty matchbook, and a few discarded flyers. Sam's fingers brushed against a tarnished coin and an old chewing gum when he bent down to pick up his notebook.

Dean chose that moment to turn up, calling out of the open passenger window. "Sam, come on."

Almost as soon as he got in, Sam started rubbing his forehead.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just a headache."

Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow at his brother. "Listen Sam, I know you want to end this, so do I, but lately, you've barely slept, you've eaten even less. I mean, you're not going to be good to anybody if you work yourself into the ground. Besides, how are you supposed to watch my back if you're about to keel over from exhaustion half the time?" He knew that last one was a low blow, but he had to get through to his brother somehow.

"How many hunts have we had in the last month Dean?"

"You've been counting?" Dean had too. Twelve, and they were wearing him out.

"Twelve Dean, three spirits, a zombie, a witch, a revenant, a _pack_ of werewolves, four demons, and a poltergeist. Everyday he's out there, evil gets stronger. We can barely keep up as it is. If we don't put Lucifer down soon, the whole planet's going to be overrun. I don't have time to sleep."

Dean shook his head sadly. He was out of arguments, heck, he was out of energy to argue.

They drove in silence until Sam pointed out that they'd missed the street for the motel.

"I forgot to tell you. I gave Dresden a call when I went out for coffee."

Harry Dresden was a wizard. The brothers had come across him last time they'd come to Chicago. At the time, he though they were trouble and they thought he was a zombie.

"See if he had anything on ol' Lucifer and if he could take us back to that tavern we went to last time." MacAnally's beer and steak was seriously worth the detour. Its regular clientele consisted on magic users. Dean figured a couple of hunters walking in there uninvited might get something of a rude welcome.

"Sounds good," said Sam once he realised he was expected to respond. He couldn't do any more research tonight, and maybe Dean was right and a hearty meal would do him good.

***

Dean knocked on Harry Dresden's door. The wizard had made it a point to mention that anyone trying to break in to his apartment would end up as a piece of charred street pizza. Though some might argue that having the magical equivalent of a bomb set up with a tripwire was overkill, Dresden felt his security measures were justified, especially after being assailed by an army of zombies.

A minute later, with still no answer, Dean pounded on the door again.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on," grumbled Harry as he came to answer. He hadn't gotten around to fixing his metal door after a monster had bent it out of shape, which meant he really had to put some weight into it to get it open.

"Winchester," he greeted.

"Sorry we're late. I couldn't pull geek boy away from his books."

Harry was about to correct him when he saw the time on the old alarm clock he kept on his counter. The brothers were fifteen minutes late. The wizard had been in his sub-basement laboratory, working on a potion, and lost track of time.

"Apology accepted, but don't let it happen again, a wizard's time is precious you know," he rallied.

Hunting had made Dean an experienced con man and habitual liar. He saw through Harry's bluff before the man even opened his mouth.

"Sure, let me just grab my time machine and fix that for you."

Once the door was fully open, forty pounds of cat rammed into Dean's legs. "What the…"

"Tramp," Harry accused his cat. "I haven't had much time for Mister lately, so he's been trying to get attention from anyone who comes over."

Harry's dog was less welcoming. He came to sit at his master's feet and looked at the Winchester brothers suspiciously. If the cat was big, the dog probably weighed as much as Harry did.

"Mouse," he told the dog. "Meet some friends of mine, Dean Winchester and his brother Sam."

"Man, what do you feed your pets?" Dean tried to push the monster cat away with his foot, unsuccessfully, at least until Mister noticed another potential pet-er.

By then, Sam was holding his head in his hand and keeping his eyes shut tight. Nevertheless, he dutifully crouched down and scratched Mister behind the ears.

"Is he okay? asked Harry.

"Headache. Come on Sammy." Taking him by the elbow, he shepherded his kid brother to the nearest chair.

Dresden's apartment was tiny – Dean had seen bigger motel rooms – and furnished with all things second hand.

As soon as he reached the cushioned seat, Sam bent forward and moaned. The last time he'd had a headache this bad was back when he was having visions.

"Are you sure he's all right?"

"Maybe I should take him back to the motel. He hasn't been sleeping," Dean admitted.

Harry offered up his bed so Sam could have a nap. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Together, they manoeuvred the younger Winchester on to the bed, where Mister joined him, hoping for more cuddles.

Moving back into the living room, Dean asked, "So what did you want to talk to me about? I don't suppose you found some magic potion we can use to off Lucifer?"

"Nope, but I do have something that could help."

Grabbing two beers from his icebox, he handed one to Dean and invited his guest to have a seat on the sofa.

"Thanks." Dean gladly took a sip from the bottle; it was one of the wonderful microbrews he'd discovered during his last visit to the Windy City.

"Have you ever heard of the Order of the Blackened Denarius?" He sat on the recliner opposite Dean

Dean savoured another mouthful of his beer. "Can't say that I have. Why?"

"They're fallen angels, bound to the thirty silver coins given to Judas for betraying Christ. And there are people who fight them. The Knights of the Cross.

"The principle for fighting Lucifer should be the same as for other fallen angels."

"You think these guys can help us?" The hunter was all ears. After months of getting nowhere, this was definitely promising.

"That's the problem; it's just one guy right now. There are supposed to be three knights." Harry's voice got heavy with the weight of guilt and sorrow. It never got easy to talk about the friends who had been hurt or killed helping him. "One died a few years ago and another was badly injured and had to give up the sword."

"Sword?"

"There are three holy swords, each with a nail from the true cross forged into them."

"Holy swords, no shit?"

Getting up, Harry took one of the swords that rested on the mantle of his fireplace. It was an old fashion broadsword, the kind used during the middle ages. He presented it to Dean who accepted it eagerly, running a hand over the scabbard and hilt.

"This is _Amoracchius_, the sword of Love. It used to belong to a friend of mine. He entrusted it to me so I could find its next wielder."

"So, what, you want out help to find a replacement?"

"Actually," He caught Dean's eyes for a second, "I had someone in mind."

Dean leaned back a few inches, watching the sword as if it might come to life and bite him. "I don't know man. I'm more of a machete kind of guy. I mean, this is great and all," he continued when he saw the wizard's confused expression. "But I'm not exactly the holiest guy on the block. Do you have any idea how many commandments I've broken? Not to mention my little stint in Hell."

The wizard was about to answer when Mister streaking out of the bedroom with more speed than anyone would expect from such a large cat. Sam followed much more slowly

If it had been anyone other than a hunter, people would have said he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. The younger Winchester wavered slightly on his feet, eyes unfocused, his gun held loosely in his right hand.

"Dean, something's wrong."


	3. Denarians 101

_The wizard was about to answer when Mister streaking out of the bedroom with more speed than anyone would expect from such a large cat. Sam followed much more slowly_

_If it had been anyone other than a hunter, people would have said he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. The younger Winchester wavered slightly on his feet, eyes unfocused, his gun held loosely in his right hand. _

"_Dean, something's wrong."_

Chapter 2

"Sam," Dean stood and took a hesitant step towards his brother. How did a migraine turn into this? "Put the gun down."

Several things happened at once.

Sam's eyes flashed black and he whipped the mussel of the pistol towards his head.

Dean dropped the sword and rushed towards Sam, knowing that even though he was only three steps away he would be too late.

Harry threw out a hand and called up the fastest magic he possessed.

In the end, only Mouse made it in time. The mammoth dog crashed into Sam with enough force to send the man sprawling to the floor.

The explosive force of Harry's spell and shouted "_Forzare_" didn't quite cover the sound of the gunshot as it flew over the fallen Winchester.

Dean fell to his knees next to his brother. It took a few false starts before his heart remembered how to beat properly. Harry's dog had clamped his jaw around Sam's wrist and pulled it away from the man's head, forcing the bullet to go wild and lodge itself in the bedroom wall. The gun lay harmlessly on the ground, but Mouse didn't let go or remove his front paws from Sam's chest.

Dean shoved the pistol away from his brother. "Sam, what the hell?"

After swallowing convulsively several times, Sam managed to answer. "It was going to kill you. The sword. It was going to kill you because of the sword."

Taking a wide step around the Winchesters, Harry came to kneel by Sam's shoulder. He patted Mouse. "Good dog."

Mouse released his prey and grinned happily, his tail wagging slightly. An impression of his teeth was left on Sam's arm, but he hadn't cut the skin.

Sam pushed himself up on his elbows.

"What, what wanted to kill me? A demon?" He opened his brother's shirt to reveal the anti-possession tattoo. It was intact.

"I don't know. This…voice. It fells…I don't know, it fells really old." He scrunched up his eyes, trying to pin down what exactly he had just experienced. Sitting up, he pressed the heels of his hands on his eyes.

"Is that what the migraine was about?"

"The voice, what does it say?" Harry interrupted.

"At, at first it was just like background noise and not a lot of it makes sense. There was something about being trapped for a long time and how it would pave the way for his brother." Crying out, Sam covered his ears with his hands. "SHUT UP!" he ordered, folding in on himself.

"Lucifer," he gasped. "It's talking about Lucifer." Another stab of pain shot through him.

Dean clutched his brother's shoulders. "Sammy! Hang on." He shot the wizard a desperate look.

"Sam, Sam, look at me." Harry moved to face the young hunter. Sam fought to open his eyes and keep them focused on the wizard. "Did you pick up a silver coin? Old, tarnished on one side?"

"What?"

"Dude, what the hell you talking about?"

"Try to remember Sam, this is important."

"A coin," Sam muttered. "Wait. I didn't pick it up, but I did touch one."

"Where?" The urgency in Dresden's voice came out loud and clear.

"Outside the bookstore, when Dean went to get the car."

"That's when the headache started." Dean tightened his grip on his brother as Sam tried to curl up completely.

"Where? What bookstore?"

"Bock Ordered Books, near the university district. We were doing research there. What's going on?"

"Get him in your car," ordered Harry as he went for his phone.

"Why, where 'we going?"

"Just do it! Damn it Michel, pick up."

Struggling to get his brother to his feet, Dean did as he was told. He didn't bother with the front passenger seat – he'd never get Sam uncurled enough – but went straight to the back seat. Before he could close the door, Harry's dog climbed in after Sam.

"Hey, get out of there."

"Mouse is coming." Dean turned to see Dresden come up the stairs to street level, black coat flapping around his legs and two swords in his arms. "Watch him," he addressed the dog, then Dean. "I'll explain on the way."

"A church?" Dean asked as Harry told him to pull in.

"It's the safest place for Sam. Go around to the service entrance, some friends of mine are meeting us there."

In the back seat, Sam was mumbling quietly to himself. Harry had suggested humming as a way to keep out the intruding voice. The hunter, putting his own twist on the idea, was reciting exorcisms in a regular cadence.

Between driving directions, Dresden had given the Winchesters the cliff notes' version of Denarians 101. As he'd told Dean earlier, these fallen angels were each attached to a silver coin. Whoever picked up one of the coins would become possessed or, depending on the person's own willpower, warped by the Denarian in the coin. Simply touching a coin could get a person "infected" by a "shadow" of the Denarian, a less powerful version of the angel, whose purpose was to encourage the victim to take up the coin and, in so doing, come under the Denarian's full control. This is what had happened to Sam.

There were two ways to get rid of the shadow short of killing the host. The quickest but more dangerous of which was to take up the coin and then refuse it.

According to the wizard, there were at least two factions of Denarians with their own agendas and methods, but both had a tendency to be extremely destructive.

Sam hadn't said a word, ignoring both Harry's lesson and Dean's swearing at everything from their luck to heaven itself, preferring to concentrate on the Latin running through his mind. Mouse had settled and laid his head on Sam's lap.

Parking as close to the entrance as he could, Dean got his brother (closely followed by his very own guard dog) while Harry went to the door.

If he hadn't been worried out of his mind, Dean would have smirked at the scene before him. Big Bad Wizard Harry Dresden, complete with bulletproof coat, wizard's staff, and fire spurting blasting rod, was towering over a diminutive priest with bright blue eyes…and asking for permission to come in.

"Father Forthill?" said Sam, finally taking in their surroundings.

The priest took a few seconds to search his memory. "Samuel, was it?"

"Sam's fine. I…_exorcisamus te omnis_…" He bent his head down and focused on a spot on the ground as the Voice made its reappearance.

"Think maybe we could chat inside?" Dean snapped, clenching and unclenching a fist. He needed to move, to do _something_ to help his brother.

"Yes, of course, come in." Father Forthill led them in to the church.

The church, Saint-Mary of the Angels, took up an entire city block. The back room occasionally served as an emergency shelter. Camp beds were set up, each with a pillow and folded blanket at one end. Dresden went to one of the beds and dragged it into one of the more open areas. Pulling out a piece of chalk from his duster pocket, he started drawing a wide circle around the bed, talking as he went.

"I've tangoed with a Denarian's Shadow myself. At the time, I got it to quiet down by dumping two feet of concrete over the coin and sealing it in a containment circle. We can't do that for the moment since we don't have the coin, so we'll do the next best thing." Finishing the circle, he put the chalk away and went over to the brothers.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"We're going to put Sam in a circle." With that, he grabbed the younger Winchester and shoved him to the camp bed.

"Hey!"

Harry ignored Dean's outrage and simply pressed two fingers to the chalk mark and willed power into the circle.

"Whoa." Sam nearly lost his balance at the sudden quiet.

"Sammy? You okay?"

Snapping an arm in front of him, Harry forestalled Dean's attempt to go to his brother. "If you, or anyone else, or even an object, cross the boundary, it'll break the circle and Sam will be vulnerable. Think of this as a road trip when you were kids and stay on your side of the line."

Dean looked at Harry as if he'd grown a second head. Their whole life had been a road trip, and there had never been an invisible line in the back seat; they'd always stayed close, or at least shared without argument.

"Tough crowd," commented the wizard before turning to Sam. "The Shadow should be a lot weaker now that it's cut off from the coin, but it's still in there. They can be sneaky so watch out for any tricks, try to monitor your toughs.

"Some friends of mine went to look for the coin. We'll be able to do more once we have it, in the mean time you're going to have to stay put."

Sam sat on the bed, making a show of getting comfortable. "Thanks."

"All in a day's work for your local wizard for hire." His light-hearted statement and lopsided grin didn't improve the mood as much as Harry had hoped. While Sam gave a weak smile, Dean just rolled his eyes as he hauled another bed as close as he dared to the circle and settled in to wait.

Three seconds later, a horrible thought occurred to him. "Crap, we never got to have any food."


	4. Sanctuary

**a/n I admit I'm taking some liberties, like assuming that Michael will be able to walk with a cane after the events of Small Favor, and I will also have my own version of Lucifer. I hope you enjoy the story regardless. **

**Also, thanks to all those who reviewed and to Saffygirl for pointing out that Michael's name is spelled with an A. Now, on with the show.**

Chapter 3

A grateful Sam chewed a bite of the sandwich Father Forthill had given him. It wasn't the steak dinner his brother had planned on, but now that his head was no longer threatening to explode, Sam's stomach had reminded him that he hadn't eaten in over eight hours. Harry had opened then resealed the circle when the food came. The three of them munched away, catching up. Mouse watched the proceedings with the intense concentration of one hoping to catch any and all stay crumbs.

"I never thought being tainted with demon blood would save me from something worse."

"What're you talking about?" asked Dean around a mouthful of his own ham and cheese sandwich.

"Back at the apartment, this," he waved vaguely at his head, "shadow really did want to kill you. It tried to take control of my body, make me shoot you, but I pushed it back. It felt the same as when I…"

"Killed a demon with your mind," Dean finished for him. "You realise this means you have two demons fighting over you right?" He smirked. "And the worst part is they only want you for your body."

"Not necessarily," corrected Harry. "Some Denarians only use their hosts for the moving parts, but others form uneven partnerships to cannibalize a host's magic or knowledge."

"It would help to know which Denarian it is," asked a new voice.

"Michael." Harry stood and went to greet his friend as Father Forthill showed him in.

Sam straightened in surprise. He'd met Michael Carpenter a few months before but had not expected to ever see the man again.

"Sorry it took so long to get here. Charity took the van with the little ones ands Molly has my truck. One of my neighbours was nice enough to drop me off."

"No problem, so long as you don't mind us starting dinner without you."

Michael turned to the room's other occupants. "Sam," he greeted with a nod, mindful of the magic circle. "And you must be Dean. Harry mentioned you after your last visit." They shook hands.

"Yep." Harry leapt in to make formal introductions. "Michael, meet Dean and Sam Winchester, demon hunters. Guys, this is Michael Carpenter, former knight of the cross. _Amoracchius_ was his," he added for Dean's benefit.

Michael still walked with a cane, but was moving faster now then when Sam had first encountered him. "Speaking of _Amoracchius_, I see you brought the swords." He indicated the two weapons at the side of a cot.

"I figured if the Nickelheads are back in town, we could use all the help we could get. I was trying to talk Dean into taking up your old position." Unspoken, but implicit in the wizard's expression was _If that's okay with you_.

Michael nodded. "The swords were entrusted to you Harry, you can offer them to whomever you deem worthy. From what you've told me of Dean, he would make a fine knight. And it's not everyone who has an angel vouch for them."

"Angel?" Dean repeated. He was on his feet in a second. "Son of a bitch."

"Dean?"

"Coming here, you being …infected by this coin, it's all a ploy by those dickheads to get me to take the damn sword." He started pacing and yelling towards the ceiling. "I'm sick and tired of your manipulation you jackass. If you think for a second that I'm just gonna roll over and –"

"Dean, calm down."

"Calm down? You know what Zachariah was up to. He lied to us and manoeuvred us into kick starting the Apocalypse so he and his angel buddies could do a little spring cleaning, and maybe wipe out a few billion people while they're at it. He probably thinks this sword is gonna kill Lucifer so he wants me to have it."

"And that's a bad thing?" Sam was standing at the very edge of the circle. "Dean, it's already started. Whatever the angels have planned, it can't be any worse then Hell on earth."

"And that makes it okay?" They were yelling now.

"No, but it does make it our best option. We don't know what form Lucifer will take or how much power he has. Face it, we're outmatched. I say we take every advantage we can get."

"Well I say –"

Harry pulled Dean away before he could get any closer to his brother and break the circle. "And I say sit down, both of you." He returned to his own seat besides Michael and took a breath. "Personally, I don't know about angels, but I do know you Dean, You're a man of Love. You love your family, you love humanity, risk your life to protect people you don't even know and you don't expect any reward. That's love with a capital L, and that why I offered you _Amoracchius_."

"If it makes any difference," added Michel, "it wasn't Zachariah who came to me."

"Who than?" asked a somewhat mollified Dean.

"The angel of Thursday, Castiel."

"Cas?"

"That's what he sent us here for the first time," Sam realised, remembering their last visit to Chicago. "He asked you if you got the sword."

"Yeah…" after ranting like a lunatic, Dean suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

"He was having doubts at the time, not sure what God wanted from him, but I know he made the right choice sending you here. Harry's right, you may not have faith in angels, but it's your capacity love that would make you a good knight."

Seeing the hunter hesitate, Harry offered, "Why don't you think about it? I think I can hold the job for you for a few days." He smiled. "While were at it, you two know anyone for the Sword of Faith?"

Dean's eyes flickered momentarily to his brother, a move Harry misinterpreted completely.

"Right, back to the current emergency. Sam, do you know who the Denarian is?"

"Sure, evil bodysnatching devils always introduce themselves before taking over your brain."

Two eye rolls met Dean's comment, one from Sam, and one from the wizard.

"Actually, he did. Vendentiel."

Michel looked worried. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"What's wrong Michel?"

"Vendentiel hasn't been in circulation since the twelfth century. As far as I knew, it was still in the Church's custody."

"We got a jail break on our hands? Are more of these guys going to be popping up?" asked Dean, wiping the remains of his sandwich off his fingers.

Michel shook his head. "Almost all thirty coins have been captured at one point or another, but many get smuggled out, or stolen back."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Ever though about digging a really deep hole?"

All the former knight could do was shrug. "They always have a way of resurfacing."

"I don't suppose you know any way to destroy them?" asked Sam.

"There were attempts at the beginning, but containment was judged best."

"There are weapons that can kill demons," Sam added eagerly, "and there are ways to kill angels, at least seven of them were killed while the seals were being broken. Maybe Castiel could help us."

"Getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we Sammy. Lets start by dealing with the one that's in your head."

"Right. Other than he's been in lock up for nine hundred years, what do you know about Vendentiel?"

Michael shook his head. "Vendentiel is one of the Denarians most associated with the Apocalypse. He is extremely destructive, usually choosing to possess powerful practitioners," he made a slight nod towards Harry, "and augmenting their power dramatically. He has been credited with earthquakes and volcanic eruptions."

"Why do I get the feeling we're talking about Mt Vesuvius here and not the Hawaiian islands?"

"Ands what's this about practitioners. Sam's not exactly Gandalf."

"No," Harry agreed, "but he does have power."

"The power's gone. He clucked the whole kit and caboodle at Lilith," Dean insisted. "He's fine now."

Dean's unintended insinuation that power was some kind of disease was not lost on Harry. The wizard was about to make some smart comment when Sam interrupted. "Dean, come on." He glanced significantly at Dresden.

"Oh shit, man, I didn't mean…It's just…"

"Gee Dean, with that kind of eloquence you could be the next Shakespeare."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Harry's amused smirk. "Smart-ass."

"If I'm the smart-ass, does that make you the dumb-ass?"

"Harry…" Michael chastised.

"Actually, he's more of a jerk," Sam joined in, smiling.

"Whose side are you on Bitch?"

"Right now? His."

"Why, thank you Sam." He gathered up his and the younger hunter's dishes then resealed the circle once again. A satisfied look on his face, he shoved the lot at Dean. "For that, you get to wash these."

Shocked, Dean turned to his brother for support, but Sam had ducked his head and his shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. "Traitor," Dean grumbled before accepting the dishes. "Are you at least going to show me where the sink is?"

With an exaggerated sigh, Harry declared, "It's so hard to get good help these days," then led Dean out of the room, Mouse trotting after them.

Once his brother and Harry were gone, Sam sobered considerably. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess," he told Michael.

"Sam, I carried that sword." He pointed to _Amoracchius_ where it still lay, a few feet away. "I've been in plenty of scrapes, and I was never _dragged_ in any of them. He," Sam could practically hear the capital H, "led me where I was needed."

"You really believe in God, that he sent you to save people?"

"So do you Sam."

The hunter shook his head. "I used to think I could help people but now…what I did…It wasn't God who sent me."

Michael was quiet for a long minute. "I've seen your faith Sam. It's shaken, but you still believe in Him, what you're afraid of is that He doesn't believe in you. Harry told me what happened, and I understand why you feel the way you do, but you have to remember something. He works in mysterious ways. Just because the situation looks bleak doesn't mean things aren't exactly as He wants them to be."

"Are you saying God wants to world to end?" Accusation and guilt filled Sam's voice.

"Maybe he wants it to be saved. Maybe, in allowing Lucifer to rise from Hell, you were His instrument in this."

Sam chuckled humourlessly. "I really doubt the Apocalypse starting was in His plans."

"Why are you here Sam?"

"…Because Harry said it would be safer," answered Sam, confused by the non sequitur.

"Here in Chicago."

"Dean and I were doing research a way to stop Lucifer."

"Why?"

"We have to. I have to. I did this, I have find a way to fix it."

"You believe there's hope."

"I can't…" Sam scrubbed his hands over his face while he got his breathing under control. "I have to believe there's an answer."

Michael smiled. "That what faith is Sam. You believe there's an answer, that there's hope, not just for the world, but for yourself." The man in front of him may not seem the definition of a man of faith, but not even all knights of the cross did. He proceeded to tell Sam about the bearer of _Esperacchius_, who didn't even believe in God as deity, and about a little old man who'd long carried the sword that lay besides _Amoracchius_.

Dean and Harry were coming back from the kitchen, both with suspicious wet patches on their shirts, when there was a knock at the door. Harry went to answer it. Mouse followed, tail wagging.

"Any luck?" he asked the newcomers.

"We scoured the neighbourhood, no sign of the coin," answered a voice with a strong Russian accent. Despite himself, Dean tensed.

"Damn." Harry opened the door all the way, letting in Molly and Sanya.

Mouse went to the girl who bent down, put both hands around his large head, and ruffled his fur. "Hey boy." When she straightened, her smile dropped several notches and she waved sheepishly at Michael. "Hi dad."

"Molly. I though you were just going to drive Sanya, not look for the coin yourself."

"I was. But since I was there already, I though I should help out?" she ended hopefully.

Michael took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. "Harry?"

Taking his cue, the wizard put his fists on his hips and glared down at his apprentice. "I thought I made it clear that I didn't want you anywhere near the Denarians."

"Then how come it was all right for me to bring Sanya?"

"Because that made you the getaway car driver, going out looking made you a potential hostage, and you know what will happen in that case."

Looking downcast, Molly answered, "The Denarians can use me against you and Dad and Sanya."

"Worse, your mother will kill me."

Molly cracked a relieved smile. If her teacher was joking, he wasn't that angry with her.

"Well, come on, you might as well meet the gang." Stepping out her line of sight, he revealed –

"Dean! What are you doing here?"

"I…wait, _he's_ your teacher?" He pointed at Harry.

"You know each other?"

"Yes. We met at Bock's when I was picking up those books for you."

"Dude, you send your student to run errands for you?"

"I'm his apprentice, and he's not allowed at the bookstore," she piped up.

"Hey, is it my fault nasty inventory destroying things follow me around?" The wizard's defence was met by Dean's unabashed laughter.

"No, but it is your fault that you use so much inventory destroying fire to get rid of them." Molly's own snickering joined Dean's laughter. Even the two knights were having trouble keeping a straight face at their friend's embarrassment.

"Oh man," Dean brushed a tear from his face. "I've been kicked out of a lot of places, but never a bookstore. Sammy, have you…" Dean trailed off as he saw the empty bed. "Sam!" he called, his mirth dissolving into a near panic. "He was supposed to stay in the circle right? Why isn't he in the circle?"

"Harry?" Michael's grave tone interrupted the wizard's search. "Hadn't you brought _Fidelacchius_?"

Next to the camp bed Harry had been using lay a single, lonely sword, deprived of its companion.

"Stars and stones," swore Harry. "God, I'm an idiot. Who leaves a holy sword next to a Denarian?"

"That's my brother were talking about!"

They all heard Mouse's whine. The dog was standing by the door, pawing at it.

"Shit, the car." Dean ran out of the church. The Impala was gone.


	5. The Chase

"_Sam!" he called, his mirth dissolving into a near panic. "He was supposed to stay in the circle right? Why isn't he in the circle?"_

"_Harry?" Michael's grave tone interrupted the wizard's search. "Hadn't you brought _Fidelacchius_?"_

_Next to the camp bed Harry had been using lay a single, lonely sword, deprived of its companion. _

_"Stars and stones," swore Harry. "God, I'm an idiot. Who leaves a holy sword next to a Denarian?"_

_"That's my brother were talking about!" _

_They all heard Mouse's whine. The dog was standing by the door, pawing at it. _

"_Shit, the car." Dean ran out of the church. The Impala was gone. _

Chap 4

As soon as the door opened, Mouse was off running. Both Dean and Harry could get a good turn of speed on foot, but Mouse in full sprint was like a bullet train with paws; there was no way they would be able to keep up.

Molly and Sanya came to stand by the two men.

"What's going on?" asked the girl.

Dean looked at her and pointed to the white pickup truck in the lot. "Is that yours?"

"It's my dad's. Why?"

"Give me the keys."

"We don't even know where he went."

"The hell we don't. You said the shadow leads them to the coin, so that's where he'll go."

"I'll drive you," said an exited Molly.

"No!" Michael and Harry chorused. Cane in hand, Molly's father joined the group.

"Molly," said Harry, snagging her keys with one hand and placing the other on her shoulder. "I need you to stay here and call Billy. He and the Alphas are in that area. See if they can find Sam and stop him. Get in touch with Murphy too. It's probably a bad idea for the cops to get in his way. Can you do that?"

"Absolutely." Dresden's apprentice was happy to help, though she was perfectly aware that her teacher was purposefully keeping her out of the action.

"Sanya," Harry called the knight along.

Behind them, Molly and her father hurried to a phone.

Dresden raced down the street like a bat out of hell.

"I could have called Murphy you know." Dean pulled out his cell phone to illustrate.

"Not around me you couldn't. Magic doesn't get along with electronics remember. That goes double when the wizard is upset. In fact, if that thing's on, I might have fried it already."

Accepting the explanation, the hunter put his phone away. "So, I get that this sword is important." He held onto the dash to keep from ramming into Sanya on a particularly rough turn. "But what's the big deal with Sam taking it? Aren't holy swords protected or something?"

"Yes," answered Sanya, "but they can be unmade if the wielder commits an act that goes against the nature of the sword."

"For _Amoracchius_ that means killing an innocent."

"And for the one Sam took?"

"_Fidelacchius_. An act of betrayal."

"Isn't stealing it already an act of betrayal?"

"Let's hope not." Harry went straight through a yellow light.

***

Sam kept the sword swung over his back as he stalked along the sidewalk. A wolf howl drew his attention but didn't distract him from his purpose. Harry's dog had made a significant effort to keep up, and probably would have if there'd been more traffic, as it was the two had parted ways about ten minutes earlier.

Sam had parked by the bookstore, but the coin had moved, rolled away nearly two blocks. The closer he got, the louder it sang to him.

He was almost there when a large dog blocked his path. Intending to shoo it out of the way or go around, Sam kept going. The dog barred its teeth and growled. A second later, a new dog showed up, and then a third. Without having to turn around, Sam could feel several others coming at him from the side and behind, each one joining in the growling. Not dogs, he realised, wolves. Staring down the first wolf, Sam caught a hint of something in its eyes: human consciousness.

Werewolves.

A silver knife was in his hand before he even finished the thought. As Sam and the first wolf charged one another, the growl reached a crescendo.

Sam threw his weight right, away from the wolf's jaw, then returned with a low swipe of the knife. Jumping out of the way, the wolf opened a path for one of its pack. Where the first wolf was stout with dark brown fur, this one was leaner and tan coloured. It leapt, forcing Sam to the left, where a russet wolf was waiting. Sam took the bite to the leg as a gambit and rammed his knife in the russet wolf's shoulder. While the wounded wolf howled in pain and withdrew another came to take its place, but it was too late. The move had made enough of an opening for Sam to get out.

He ran.

The second it took for the wolves to regroup and come after him was all Sam needed to reach his goal. There, in front of an empty Laundromat, lay the Denarius of Vendentiel. Smiling grimly at the coin, wolves at his back, and black eyed, Sam drew _Fidelacchius_.

***

A patrol car parked by the curb. The officers were responding to reports of a bright light and explosion. So far, their inspection had yet to reveal any fallen walls or charred buildings, but there was a man passed out on the sidewalk.

Large dogs surrounded the man who held a katana in his slack hands.

"That's a new one," commented one of the police officers.

"Stick around in Chicago long enough and you'll see weirder kid."

"Like that wizard guy I heard about?"

A massive grey dog, larger than any of the others, whined.

With the slight rumble of an engine, another car came to a stop next to theirs. Sergeant Karrin Murphy stepped out. "I've got this one boys."

"We're the responding officers, Sergeant," said the rooky.

Murphy strolled over and shrugged. "You really want a dog trainer who passed out on a walk?"

The second officer watched her appraisingly. Murphy met the look head on. "What about the sword?" he asked.

She shrugged again. "Maybe he's paranoid."

"Come on kid, Sergeant Murphy'll take care of sleeping beauty." Giving Murphy a last look, he added, "Make sure to talk to him about carrying a bladed weapon."

Murphy's only reply was to snort. She reached out to scratch the grey dog around the ear. "What's Harry gotten himself into this time Mouse?"

Once the patrol car was well out of sight, a white truck pulled up.

"Dresden," Murphy greeted the driver, hands on her hips. "Lost a fugitive by any chance?"

"According to his FBI file, he's officially dead, so I guess I lost a zombie. Or a corpse, but that's just icky."

Not in the mood for jokes, Dean hurried over to his brother. He stopped short when a wolf got in his way.

"It's all right Billy." At Harry's words, the wolf stepped aside.

Both Dean and Sanya went to Sam, but Sanya didn't look at the man, rather, he crouched near the tip of the sword. "Harry," he called.

"Sam, Sammy? Come on man, wake up. What the hell happened here?"

Behind Dean, the wolf Harry had addressed as Billy, began to morph into a man.

"Holy! Dresden, watch out!" Placing himself securely between the werewolf and his little brother, Dean drew his silver knife.

Harry caught his arm. "No. Dean, he's with me."

The hunter's eyes flickered between the wizard and the naked man in front of him. "The hocus-pocus I could deal with, but controlling werewolves is a whole different ballgame," he growled.

"He doesn't control us," objected Billy, cupping his hands over his privates in deference to the presence of a woman. Murphy rolled her eyes; as if she hadn't seen one of those before.

"How are you doing that? It's not even a full moon."

"There's more than one kind of werewolf Dean. I'll explain later, but right now, we need to know what happened to your brother."

Dean pocketed the weapon, but kept weary eye on Billy and refused to relinquish his defensive stance.

"We caught up to him down the street," he indicated Sam. "We surrounded him. He came at me with a knife so we tried to distract him. When Carla nipped his leg, he stabbed her in the shoulder and got away from us." Harry looked alarmed at this last bit of news so Billy added, "She could still walk on her own, but Turner took her home anyway.

"When we got here, the sword was glowing and he rammed it into the ground. That's when something exploded. There was a bright flash and a thunderclap. The next thing I knew, he was passed out. I figured it was safer to wait for you before trying to wake him. Mouse showed up a minute before you did."

"Thanks Billy, and thanks for standing guard guys. We'll take it from here." Many on the wolves cocked their heads or yipped in acknowledgment before disappearing into the night.

Billy and the tan wolf stuck around a bit longer. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"We should be okay. I'll call you if anything comes up."

Nodding, the man shifted back into his wolf form then ran off.

"He didn't stab at the ground," Harry informed everyone, moving so they could all see the silver Danarius lying at his feet. _Fidelacchius_'s tip had made a narrow, half-inch long perforation right at its centre.

"What does that mean? Is that thing in Sam now?"

The wizard reached out with his senses. "No. It's gone. I think he actually killed it."

"That is impossible," said Sanya, picking up the damaged coin with a white handkerchief.

"You don't know my brother. Impossible doesn't apply to Sam Winchester." There was a touch of pride in Dean's voice.

"Anyone feel like filling me in?" asked Murphy.

"Sam got himself an imaginary friend."

Murphy narrowed her eyes at the reference. "They're back. What are those lunatics doing in my city this time?"

"Best guess so far, trying to recruit him."

"Like they tried with you and Ivy?"

Dean gave his brother a few more taps on the face, but Sam didn't react. "Come man, just because you beat a bad guy doesn't mean you get to take a nap." He turned to the group at large. "Does anyone know how to wake him? A little magic would be good right now."

"Let's get him back to the church."

After a moment's hesitation, Dean fished the keys out of his brother's jacket pocket and went to get his car. Dresden was still filling the Sergeant in when the Impala screeched to a halt next to them.


	6. A Moment's Respite

Chap5

Dean and Harry carried Sam's limp body into the church while Sanya took care of the sword and coin. Murphy had been called away to deal with a break-in but promised to stop by after her shift.

Once they'd settled Sam in, Father Forthill excused himself to finish preparing for the next day's mass.

"So, any ideas?" Harry and Sanya were discussing the evening's events with Michael.

"I believe you're right Harry. Vendentiel is no longer in the coin, and I don't sense it in your friend either." Out of habit, the former knight held the cursed denarius in its white handkerchief, being careful not to touch it with his skin.

"Could it truly be destroyed, or simply released?" asked the Russian, brow creased.

Michael shook his head in apology. "Both are unheard of, but as you know, our records of the Denarians are far from complete."

Harry nodded. Revolutions, fires, and the Denarians themselves, had periodically decimated the Church's archive. "I know someone who might be able to help with that. What about him?"

Off to the side, Sam lay motionless under a grey blanket. Checking his wounded leg, they'd seen what would soon be an impressive bruise, but the wolf bite hadn't broken the skin. Dean sat on the edge of the cot, dividing his attention between his brother and their conversation. Molly sat on another bed, staring at Harry.

"I can ask," offered Michael. It might have had something to do with years of service to God and humankind, but his prayers tended to be answered. He limped over to the bed, on the side opposite Dean. The hunter watched wearily, but let Michael do his thing.

Placing a hand on Sam's forehead, the man turned his eyes heavenwards. "Our Father in heaven, please help this child find his way back to those who love him. Amen."

For a fraction of a second, Dean thought he saw a white light coming from Michael's hand. Sam stirred but didn't wake up.

"He'll come out of it when he's ready," reassured the former knight. "He still has a lot to work out."

"I guess this is a chance for him to catch up on his sleep," said Harry, cutting off the smart mouth retort he could see forming on Dean's lips.

The hunter glared at Harry but settled for asking about _Fidelacchius_.

"That's the good news," said Michael. "According to William, the sword glowed when your brother handled it. It responded to his faith."

"That mean he didn't mess anything up?"

"_Fidelacchius_ came alive in his hands. That only happens when it's held by one who is worthy to carry it."

After a few seconds of silent contemplation, Dean guffawed. "You're telling me that my brother, bringer of the frigging Apocalypse, could be one God's chosen warriors? Sammy's sure as hell gonna get a kick out of that." The stress of the last year – years, plural, if he was honest with himself – came to a head; Dean couldn't stop laughing. "You sure being all 'shadowy' isn't going to be a problem?"

"I once held one of the coins myself," said Sanya. "Now that I am free of its influence, I serve the Greater Good."

"Hey, why not? I spent forty years in Hell and started this whole mess, and the angels think I'm St-Michael the second. Man, Harry, you're everybody's go to guy. What'd you do, burn down an orphanage?"

"No orphanage, but I did take a chunk out of a shopping mall." There was a hint of sheepishness in the answer. Fire was Harry's weapon of choice, a detail dreaded by supernaturally inclined home and business owners all over Chicago.

"Don't forget the Velvet Room," Molly joined in the fun.

"What's that?"

"A brothel."

"Dude, you burned down a brothel, how could you?" Dean put on his best affronted face.

"It was a vampire brothel!" the wizard defended himself.

"What else did you torch?"

"It might take some time to draw up a full list." To everyone's surprise, the quip had come from Michael.

A knock at the door stopped Harry's indignant protest.

"Is it Murphy?" I bet she could help with the list."

"It's Fix."

Taking his cue from the rest of the room, Dean instantly sobered.

"What does the knight of the Summer court want with us?" asked Sanya.

Harry opened the door part way. "Fix," he greeted.

"Harry."

"Are you packing this time?"

"Are you an emissary of Winter this time?" countered the younger man.

"You tell me."

Fix was in his early twenties and looked more and more like the high Sidhe he served every time Harry saw him. The last of those times, the two had been on opposite sides of the fairy Courts. To symbolise this opposition and in case his role as emissary of Winter compelled Dresden to violently resist members of the Summer court, Fix had waved a gun around. To this, Harry had responded by being not so symbolically pissed off and threatening Fix with bodily harm. In retrospect, he understood the Summer Knight's position somewhat, but that didn't make it okay for friends to point guns at him. It hadn't helped Harry's disposition that agents of Summer had started making attempts on his life _before_ Mab, queen of Winter, had "persuaded" Harry to be her emissary.

Fix locked his jaw before answering, "No."

"How did you find me?"

Fix shrugged. "A sprite spotted you."

The wizard opened the door all the way and stepped aside, but pointedly did not give a verbal invitation.

Words and belief have a lot of pull in the supernatural world. A church is a place of community, where people feel at home and safe, therefore, from the magical point of view, it has a threshold. Entering such a place uninvited means that a lot of supernatural power gets left at the door. Fix accepted the reprisal and stepped inside.

He nodded respectfully to all those present, bowed to Molly, then turned to Harry. "The Summer Lady requests an audience in neutral ground with the wizard Harry Dresden, the Knight of the Sword, Sanya, and the hunter Dean Winchester."

"What?"

"Why?" Sanya and Harry asked simultaneously.

"To discuss a treat to the balance of power in the Nevernever," Fix answered his friend.

"When?"

"Right away."

"At Mac's?"

"Yes."

"Hey," Dean cut in. "I'm not going anywhere until my brother wakes up."

"Dean, refusing an invitation from one of the fairy queens is a monumentally stupid idea."

"I don't care, I don't want him waking up alone."

"He won't be alone," Harry placated. "Michael and Molly will watch out for him." He turned to the former knight. "Can you ask Murphy to stick around once she gets here?"

"Of course."

"See, one wizard in training, one retired holy warrior and one bad ass cop. He'll be in good hands. Besides, even though Lily takes orders from Titania, she tries to help as much as she can. If she invited you, it's because there's something you need to know."

"Something about Lucifer?"

Harry turned to Fix; the young man opened his mouth but nothing came out, a sign that he was under a compulsion that kept him from saying certain things. He tried again, and then settled for, "Maybe."

Dean looked down, hand held tight around his brother's limp fingers. "I need to be here."

"I get it man, I do, but it's not about what you need, it's about protecting all the people out there." Harry swept his arm in a wide arc in an effort to encompass the entire world. There was weight in his words, the heaviness of having made the choice he was asking of Dean.

Shaking his head, the hunter inhaled loudly. "How long's this gonna take?"

"Depends what Lily has to say."

"Fine. Let's get this bitch over with."

The Summer knight turned to go.

"Fix," Harry stopped him. "Tell Lily we'll be a few minutes late. I need to make a detour."

The young man was about to protest but changed his mind when Harry scowled. "Sure Harry. See you in a few. Gentlemen." He bowed to Molly again, "Lady," then disappeared out the door.

"So, where do you need to go?" Dean took the Impala's keys out of his pocket.

"My place." Harry gathered up the swords. "No offence to Sam, but unless you want to take up a sword, I'd rather have these behind my wards for the time being. Unless you want to hold on to _Amoracchius_?" he offered Michael.

The former knight shook his head. "It isn't mine to take anymore."

"Harry?" Molly came up to her teacher. "About Sam... If it's all in his mind…" she trailed off. Molly had a gift for mind magic, but using it inappropriately had gotten her in serious trouble in the past.

"And you want to help," he finished for her. "You heard what your dad said. He'll wake up on his own." The girl looked crestfallen. "But it probably wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on things, see how he's doing."

Molly perked up immediately. "Really? I can do it?"

"Just don't touch anything," he warned as his apprentice rushed to Sam's bedside and settled, cross-legged, on the floor.

"Absolutely. No problem."

Shaking his head, he left the church, followed by Dean and Sanya.


	7. Come Away

Chapter 6

MacAnally's pub specialised in serving a magical clientele, a fact reflected in the décor. There were thirteen wooden pillars, each one engraved in low relief, thirteen stools at the bar, and thirteen tables, all of this meant to dissipate the free flowing magical energy emanating from the patrons. A brass plaque by the door declared the pub Neutral Ground, a place where those on opposite sides of supernatural conflicts could meet in peace, provided they had signed the Accord.

The pub had stopped serving at eight o'clock but stayed open by special request. Only two of the thirteen tables were in use. They were pressed together with six chairs around them.

Lily, youngest of the three queens of the Summer court, and Fix, were seated at the tables. Lily was about the same age as Fix with blond hair and an elegant green and gold dress.

When Harry, Dean, and Sanya came in, Fix stood and nodded to them. Behind the bar, Mac, the owner, continued washing glasses without taking any particular notice of the new arrivals. The wizard scanned his surroundings and noted the extra chair.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked Fix.

Lily smiled and waved her hands in invitation. "Please, have a seat."

Sanya took the chair next to Fix and Harry manoeuvred Dean so he would be sandwiched between the two of them.

"You're right," continued the Summer Lady. "There is another concerned about this new threat."

At her words, the front door flew open in a gust of icy wind. The woman who sashayed in looked about twenty, but she could just as easily have been two hundred. This was Lily's counterpart, the Winter Lady.

"Maeve," growled Harry when she came to a halt next to him.

Fix and Sanya rose to great the Lady. Dean was about to imitate them when Harry put a hand on his shoulder and pressed him back in his chair.

"Dresden. Who's your friend?" Meave licked the bottom of her upper teeth almost hungrily. She turned her icy blue-purple eyes to the hunter and smiled.

Dean returned the smile and added a wink.

"He's a hunter. Carries lots of weapons. You know, guns, knives, _iron_." Iron was a weakness shared by all fairies. Even Queen Mab, ruler of Winter and one of the most powerful of the sidhe, shrank away from it.

"He won't need any of those with me." She ran a finger from her lips to the side of her jaw then down her throat.

"That's right, he'll need a parka and a space heater to keep the blood from freezing in his veins when you touch him, or was lemonade turning to ice as soon as it got in your mouth just for show?"

"Only one way to find out. Is the big, strong hunter good enough to warm me up?"

Dean had blanched. "No that I'm not warming up just looking at you sweetheart, but I don't sleep with supernatural bitches. I'll pass."

The seductress act fell away and Maeve looked about ready to claw the cocky grin off Dean's face. She sat very, very slowly, never taking her glare off the human.

"We are all here for a common purpose," said Lily, once everyone was seated.

Maeve drummed everyone of her manicured fingers on the table twice, first in one direction, then in the other. "There's a new player in town."

"We've had a few of those lately, but I'm guessing you're talking about the guest of honour: Lucifer."

"The horned God, Satan, the Devil, whatever you want to call him."

"With the troubles," Lily didn't specify which troubles she was talking about, but Harry knew anyway. In the past few years, Queen Mab's behaviour had been erratic, an uncharitable soul might even say insane. "We fear the angel will strike at Winter, upsetting the natural balance."

The two courts were in constant conflict, yet perfectly aware that they needed one another. In a way, they didn't fight for supremacy so much as equality. When one side became too powerful, the other had to take action to redress the balance.

"You think Lucifer is going to kick Mab out and take her throne?"

"Yes," said the Ladies in unison.

A straight answer. Now, Harry was worried. Other than Lily's slight omission, neither Lady had made attempts at misdirection. Not only was this unusual, it was downright unsettling. It meant that Maeve and Lily weren't just concerned, they were scared.

"That was the big important message?" said Dean, annoyed. "We're already working on kicking Lucifer's demonic ass, so unless you know how to ice the guy – "

"No!" Meave moved so fast, the hunter barely registered what happened. One second, she was fiddling with her hair and the next she was halfway over the table with a hand clutching Dean's collar.

Three chairs grated against the floor as the other men got up.

"Let him go Meave!" ordered Harry.

"Jezz, no offence lady." He could hear the fabric cracking and cold spread over his neck and chest. Tinkerbelle took ice _way_ to seriously in his opinion.

Maeve released his shirt and sat back down with a huff. "You're an idiot if you think you can kill him."

"If you're not gonna help, why the hell am I even here for?"

She smiled sweetly, her cool demeanour back. "Maybe Dresden wasn't enough of a comic relief."

"I don't know you that well lady, but I will kick your – "

"Enough." Lily's voice was soft, but it carried to every corner of the room. Gone was the shy teenager Harry had met a handful of years before, she was now a true queen of the sidhe, and as such, commanded respect.

"We do wish this threat removed, but killing the angel would be unwise."

"How so?" asked Harry, cutting in before Dean could start arguing again.

Maeve snorted and mumbled "Morons."

"He is the repository of a great deal of power, power that will be let loose should he be killed, but more importantly, he fills a place, one that cannot be left empty."

"Imagine killing all three queens of a court at once," added Maeve.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean, think, what would happen if Hell had no ruler?"

"The angels seem to think evil goes down with Lucifer. Cut off the head and the body dies too."

"They're still using that snake metaphor?" The winter Lady gave a single, humourless laugh.

"Hydra," Harry realised.

"As in cut off one head and a new one grows?"

"With a lot of flailing in between." Sanya spoke up for the first time. "You suggest that killing Lucifer will only cause a power struggle."

"It would be best if he were returned to his proper place," said Lily by way of confirmation.

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"I only wish I could tell you."

"You don't know, or you can't say?" Harry challenged Lily, but Maeve answered.

"This is your mess, do your own homework. We're done here." With that, she got up and walked out. The room got noticeably warmer once she passed the door.

A phone rang somewhere in the back. Mac went to answer.

"I'm sorry, that's all I can do." Lily and Fix stood to take their leave. "Good luck Harry."

The others were about to follow suite when Mac came back, carrying the handset of a phone with an extremely long cord. "Harry," he called, handing over the receiver.

"Hello?"

**Two chapters in two days. I hope this makes up for taking so long to update previously. Thanks for reading.**


	8. Oh Human Child

Chapter 7

Molly sat cross-legged on the floor, an immobile Sam on the cot at her back. _Immobile_ only applied to his body. She'd had to dig, but Molly found a roiling sea of turmoil at the man's core. As per instruction, she looked but didn't touch. Though she wanted to help, she knew all too well the kind of damage imposing her own will on someone psyche could cause.

Sam was conflicted, there was no mistaking it. There was what he wanted to do, what he'd been taught to do, what he needed to do, what he was expected to do, what he thought he was expected to do, what he had the power to do, the power he thought he needed, and on some deep, dark, I'm-not-a-kid-anymore-stop-trying-to-control-me level, he craved, what he hoped to do, what he knew he'd done, and what he was terrified he would do again, either willingly or by mistake, all tumbling over each other.

Molly knew the feeling. Maybe not the I-ended-the-world feeling, but certainly the I-only-wanted-to-help-and-got-everyone-(least of all myself)-in-big-trouble. One of her friends had been doing drugs. The addiction had already cost the life of one of her friend's unborn children, so when she got pregnant again, Molly did something about it. She meddled with her friend's mind, making her afraid of drugs. Well meaning as it was, the act had opened a door to fear loving monsters and gotten a lot of people killed or injured.

There are rules to magic, one of those is not to mess with other people's minds. The ruling body of wizards, known as the White Council, dealt with breaches to their laws with absolute proficiency and finality. If Harry hadn't stuck his neck out for Molly, she would have lost hers.

Sam's emotions clashed fiercely as she watched. Need, Duty, Trust, Fear and Desire were making the biggest waves at the moment, crashing against each other. The worst part was that none of the motivations seemed to know where they were going, some coming together against others one minute only to split and form new alliances the next. As usual, Trust was taking the greatest beating.

Molly was silently cheering on the underdog when she was startled out of her meditation. It hit her like a fist in the gut, violence and fear spiked in the air around her. When she opened her eyes, her father was slumped, knocked out, against the far wall and the woman coming directly at her was most definitely a Denarian.

Unlike most Denarians, Rosanna (Molly recognised her from Harry's description) actually looked like a renaissance painting of a demon. She had red skin, hooves, and black leather wings coming out of her back. The biggest clue to her status was the two sets of eyes, brown ones that belonged to the host, and the glowing green ones of a Fallen Angel.

Besides Molly, Mouse was producing an almost subsonic growl, teeth barred at the Denarian.

Rosanna smiled a sad smile. "Molly right?" she asked. "You're the one who got rescued from the floods. Pulled out of danger and into the loving embrace of family. Must be nice, having people who care so deeply about you, who won't give up on you just because you disappoint them.

"And this must be Sam, the man who killed one of our brothers."

Throughout her monologue, the demoness had taken one slow step after another, getting within a few feet of Molly. The girl's eyes flashed to her unconscious father then came right back to Rosanna.

Molly's absolute best trick was cloaking, making herself and those she touched vanish into thin air, not just from sight, but from all senses. Unfortunately, it was far too late for that. Even if she disappeared and ran, Sam would still be visible, besides, where would she run? This qualified as a fight or flight situation if she'd ever seen one, but she couldn't hide and she was almost useless when it came to offensive magic. Where was option number three when you needed one?

Mouse's growl got louder the closer Rosanna came, but even Harry's mammoth dog couldn't take on a Denarian by himself and win.

What none of them had counted on was that, while Molly stood there, leaking terror, she was still partly linked to Sam. One fluid motion later, Sam was on his feet, cot in his hands and swinging at the Denarian. Mouse added his weight to the mix and Rosanna, taken by surprise, fell under the combined force of the camp bed and dog ramming into her.

Grabbing Molly's hand, Sam dashed out of the church.

Rosanna was already struggling to her feet. She batted Mouse away like an annoying fly. Racing out of the parking lot, her wings opened and flapped once, lifting her off the ground enough to see Sam pull Molly into an alley. With a whoosh of air, she flew after them. Although she had to land in the narrow alley, that wouldn't stop her from following. What did stop her was her prey's sudden vanishing act. Vendentiel's mark was gone from Sam and not even a Denarian could track what it couldn't see.

Behind her, a car turned into the church's lot and Mouse limped his way out the open door. Rosanna debated going back, maybe taking the former knight hostage, but opted to vanish into the shadows. There would be another day.

Molly did her best to keep her concentration on cloaking them as she and Sam ran. A few blocks later, her lungs were burning and she was having a hard time keeping up with Sam's long strides. Noticing this, he pulled her in a concealed doorway and let her catch her breath while he scanned the street.

"I don't see it.

"Did we lose her?" asked Molly between gasps. She'd done her share of running while helping Harry with miscellaneous creepy crawlies, but she was more of a sprinter than a long distance runner.

"I don't know. We need to find shelter, lay some salt lines."

"I can…I can put up a ward."

"This way." Putting his hand around her wrist again, he pulled her along, be it at a more relaxed pace. If she had been less freaked out, Molly might have protested, but at that point, she was more than happy to let someone else lead the way.

Sam got them on a bus and they rode around for a while until he saw a small youth hostel nestled between two restaurants. Making quick work of checking them in, he got a private room for himself and his "sister," asking if there was a supermarket or convenience store nearby while he was at it.

"So, who's Marc Gerardo?" asked Molly once they were in their room, referring to the name on the credit card Sam had used.

The walls were painted dull yellow and the duvet covers of the two narrow beds were bright blue. A laminated sheet on the door listed the hostel's rules. No noise after eleven o'clock, remember the security code as reception closed at midnight until six AM, pots and pans were available in the kitchen but dishes and cutlery had to be rented out.

"Me," answered Sam, who was checking the locks on the room's two windows.

She rolled her eyes. "Right, and Sam's just a nick name."

Turning to stare at her, brow wrinkled in confusion, he asked, "What are you talking about? Why would I have a credit card with someone else's name on it?"

"Your name's Sam. Sam Winchester."

"No it's not."

"Sam," she bit her lower lip. "Do you know who I am?"

"Sure Molly, you're my little sister."

"No, that's just what you told the clerk. Believe me, I have a lot of brothers and sisters and you're not one of them."

"Come on Molly, this isn't time to start pulling stupid pranks like…like." He stopped, rubbing his forehead.

"Dean?" Molly hazarded.

"Dean! Dean, right. Must have zone out there for a minute."

She shook her head. "Sam, it's like you're making up a story for your life. Something's wrong with your memory."

"I'm fine, I just, a little distracted by that demon coming after us. We have to get that salt." When he stepped towards the door, Molly got in his way.

"Sam."

"Would you quit calling me that? It's Marc."

"Fine, Marc. What's the last thing you remember before waking up?"

"Going to bed?"

"You didn't go to bed, you passed out. How do you know salt can keep demons out, who taught you?"

"The same person who taught you."

"Who was that, what was their name?"

"It was…it was. Just…just stop messing around Molly, this isn't helping." He flapped a hand wildly in the air.

"You don't know. You forgot. I have to call Harry," she murmured the last past to herself.

"No. You're not calling anyone. I'm fine, I'm..." Sam pressed the heel of his hands against his temples and started pacing up and down the small space. "My name is Marc Gerardo, it said so on the card. And you're…you're Molly. You were with me at the shelter. You've been with me as long as I can remember."

"Who's Dean?"

"Dean." He pulled at his hair. "Dean's our dad, no, our brother. He's…Oh God. I don't know. I don't know who I am. Who the hell I am?" His eyes begged for answers. When she looked away, he sank down the wall and huddled there like a frightened child.

Molly knelled in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. "It's all right, we can fix this, I think. Harry will know what to do. You are going to be fine."

Sam dropped his knees to one side and pulled Molly into a tight hug. "You're a great sister, you know that?"

Patting him on the shoulder with the hand that wasn't trapped between their two bodies, she told him, "I have to go use the phone at the reception desk. Stay here. I promise to be right back."

Molly left a message with Father Forthill at the church. Her father had a slight concussion but was awake now and otherwise all right. Rosanna was nowhere to be found, and Sergeant Murphy had taken Mouse out to look. Michael had already called Harry to let him know she and Sam had gone missing and the gang was on their way back.

After hanging up, Molly tried Dean's phone number. She'd brought Sam's cell phone with her and asked the clerk to give her the number from the contacts list, saying she had lost her glasses and there were no more minutes on the phone anyway. She made sure he turned the phone off before taking it back. _"I can't see the buttons and I don't want to drain the battery."_

The presence of wizards caused interference on both ends of the conversation, but after a half dozen tries, Dean managed to understand the hostel's address and room number and repeat them back to her.

"We're…r way. We'll be…in f…nutes."

"How long?"

"I sai…minu…"

"What?"

"Soon, we…ere soo…"

"All right. Good bye."

"…ye."

Molly gave back the phone, thanked the clerk for his help, and then started up the stairs to go back to the room. She never made it.

**As it turns out, I'm evil. See you all next chapter.**


	9. Lost and Found

Chapter 8

"You know where this place is?" asked Dean after hanging up. He'd held the phone as far away from the wizard as possible.

"I stayed near there when I first got to Chicago. It's only a few blocs away. Take a right at the stop sign."

"Swear to god, I can't take my eyes off that kid for five minutes, he either gets kidnapped or runs off."

"Have you thought about a tracking device?" Sanya suggested. The man was highly pragmatic, for example, whether or not some entity known as God protected the knights of the cross was not going to stop him from wearing Kevlar.

"I usually track him through his phone. I don't thinks he'd take being bugged all that well."

"Then don't tell him."

"Dude," Dean couldn't decide between grinning and frowning. "Are you sure you're one of the good guys?"

"He is," confirmed Harry. Pointing to a red brick building, he added, "and we're here."

Harry and Sanya were out of the car before Dean had come to a full stop. Swearing, the hunter finished parking and turned off the engine before taking off after them.

****

Sam was standing by the window when the door clicked open. He spun around to face the blonde woman who had just come in. His entire body coiled, ready to strike.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Molly, remember?"

He shook his head, circling closer. "No you're not." It looked like Molly, it had her face, her clothes, her voice, but it wasn't Molly saying the words.

The transformation was instantaneous. Eager or upset, Molly did a lot of speaking through her body, whoever this was, she held herself like a runway model, confident and sensual. "So, you are as smart as they say."

"What do you want?"

Just to see how you like the boss's gift…All that power." She closed her eyes as if savouring a particularly good dessert.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ripping that shadow out of your head did a number on you. Don't worry, it shouldn't last." Her mouth formed a cross between a smile and a pout. "It's not like you needed the Denarian to begin with. The power's yours, always has been. All the shadow did was unchain what you'd locked up."

None of what the demon said made any sense, but Sam could still feel the deep 'wrongness' of her words. "I don't believe you."

"Too bad. If you did, if you remembered, you might be able to do something about poor little Molly. I'm surprised really, I thought a practitioner would put up more of a fight, all those fancy mind blocks you know. She just went and crumbled under me."

Sam took an aggressive step forward. "Get out of Molly."

"Make me."

"I said, get out." His muscles took over. On instinct, he reached out with his hand and mind and Molly's body flew backwards into the wall with a bone-jarring thud.

The door swung opened. It took less then a second for Sanya to take in the scene and draw his sword, swinging it straight at Sam's throat.

Molly started coughing. Black smoke poured out of her mouth, surprising the knight. He froze mid-swing.

Stumbling back a bit, head swimming, Sam released her.

Harry was already crouched in front of his apprentice, checking on her. Warm tears ran down her cheeks.

Favouring the hunter with a weary look, his sword lowered but not sheathed, Sanya addressed the wizard. "How is she?"

And then it was there, Sam's memory, as if it had never been gone. Using his power of exorcism had somehow called it back. He remembered his life, his childhood, his father, and…

"Dean!"

In the doorway, Dean gapped at his brother. Sam stood frozen for a full three seconds before rushing to his brother. Dean's visible flinch stopped him.

"Sammy?" The older man took a hesitant step into the room. "That you?"

"Yeah Dean, it's me."

"You told me you couldn't do that anymore."

All Sam could do was open and close his mouth soundlessly.

In a flash, Dean's anxiety turned to anger. He advanced on his kid brother, forcing Sam back against the far wall. "Damn it Sam, we said no more secrets. What the hell made you think you could keep this from me?"

"I didn't know. I swear I didn't know"

"You didn't know? How could you possibly not know? You been drinking blood again?"

Sam grabbed his brother's shoulders and forced him to meet his eye. "No, Dean. Really, I didn't know. You think I would have let that demon nearly kill you back in Connecticut if I'd know I could exorcise it? I thought it was gone. When Ruby said I didn't need the feather I though she meant the blood didn't influence my decisions; I didn't know she meant the power. You have to believe me." He held the look until Dean blinked and nodded.

"Right, okay, you didn't know." There wasn't much conviction in the statement, but he was willing to give Sam the benefit of the doubt. However, he'd be watching his brother like a hawk for a good long while. Glancing back, he saw Molly and Harry having a hushed conversation. "Hey kid, you all right?"

Molly's eyes were red rimmed and puffy, but she made it to her feet with Harry's help. "Yeah, she was just…" she struggled for words. "Really, really evil." Turning to her teacher, who had an arm around her back, keeping her steady, the young wizard asked, "Can I go see my dad?"

"Sure thing grasshopper. He was worried about you. What do you say we go back to Saint Mary's and check on everyone?"

Molly nodded. "Good idea."

"That's why I get paid the big bucks." He grinned.

"Dude, you get paid?" Dean joked.

"Molly…" tried Sam, head bowed and keeping a safe distance from the young woman.

She crossed the space between them and took his hand in hers, "You can be my big brother anytime you like," then pecked him on the cheek.

"Her big brother?" asked Dean as they started filing out of the room.

"I was a little confused back there. I thought Molly was my sister."

"You wake up to a girl like that and you cast her as your sister? Dude, what is wrong with you?"

Stopping in the middle of the corridor, Harry swore.

"What?"

"I nearly forgot. I have an appointment at my office in twenty minutes."

***

**Hi folks. Thanks for reading.**

**I figured I'd update quickly so as not to leave you hanging too long. The bad news is, I only have one chapter left before I run out of story. I haven't decided if I'll just wrap things up like I'd originally planned or get into something …bigger. I've been including little details that I thought were cool but that suggest a much bigger story is lying in wait, unfortunately, I don't know what that story is. **

**Decisions, decisions. Feel free to give your opinion one way or the other. **


	10. Surprise Guest

**Sorry for the delay guys. Hope you enjoy it anyway.**

Chap 9

They all piled into the impala, which was mercifully big enough to give everybody room to breath; in a compact car, Molly would probably have ended up squashed between Harry and Sanya.

After dropping the knight and apprentice wizard back at the church, and being assured by Murphy that everyone was fine and Dresden could go earn some money to pay his phone bill, Dean drove them to Harry's office, getting them there only seven minutes late.

"That is the most terrifying ride I have ever had, and I've ridden with Murphy," were the wizard's parting words as he went racing down the sidewalk.

"So," Dean started as he found a parking spot. He'd agreed to wait for Harry and give him a ride back. It would give Sam and him time to talk. "Anything you want to tell me?"

***

Harry took the steps two at the time. The elevator hadn't worked since an incident involving a police woman, a wizard and a giant scorpion, or so the rumour had it.

When he got to his office, his client was waiting by the door. Everything about the man was designer, from the white leather shoes, the kind you need ten identical pairs of so you can change them when they get dirty, to the artfully mussed hair with honest to goodness gold leaf at the tips. Harry immediately despised him. Anyone who has ever not been sure they would be able to make the next month's rent knows there is something deeply wrong about a thousand dollar pair of sunglasses.

The man, if he was even out of his teens yet, was nearly as tall as Harry and almost thin enough to be called willowy. He glanced significantly at his, Harry did a double take, Louis Moinet watch.

"Traffic," mumbled the wizard, unlocking the door. He led the other man to his desk and offered him a seat.

"What can I do for you, Mister…?" Even as he extended a hand, Harry got a niggling feeling at the back of his scull. Something was wrong with this picture. He always took a client's name when he made an appointment, and what had possessed him to set up a meeting at this hour of night? Come to think of it, he didn't remember making this appointment at all.

The wizard's fingers turned to icicles in the other man's grip. "Morning Star," said the other man, his voice velvety soft, "Call me Lucifer."

As soon as he could, Harry yanked his hand back, flexing his fingers to get feeling back into them. He made to take a step around the desk, but his guest had other things in mind.

"Sit," ordered Lucifer. Harry sat.

"What do you want?"

"Me? I want a great many things, a new job for one, but for now, I'll settle for a chat. A _civil_ chat," he added when Harry started reaching for his magic. "Not that you can take me. I'm the ruler of a realm of the Nevernever, remember. My father didn't just banish me to Hell, he put me in charge. That's the kicker, isn't it? I get banished for a little head butting but you, even the worst, the unforgivable among you get the attention of an archangel for all eternity. I would have done things differently." He sighed.

"You're trying to take over again," said Harry, putting as much menace in his voice as he could, which turned out not to be much. As a rule, Harry didn't like bullies and would mouth off to just about anyone he perceived as one, but in the face of the great destroyer, his mind went completely blank of smartass comments. Where was Dean when he needed comedic back up?

Lucifer's laughter was light and melodic. "I learned my lesson the first time. Never bring angelic power to an omnipotence fight. But this is not what I came here to discus."

"What then, and why me?"

"Simple, of those at the meeting, I thought you most likely to heed Lady Winter's warning and not try to kill me. I find it more productive to speak to someone whose mind is not completely occupied with plotting my demise.

"Now, my heavenly brethren have got it in their heads that riding the world of evil is a good idea." He bent forward over the desk, lowering his voice to a dangerous growl. "If you think my father was upset with me for disagreeing with him, think how he must feel now. These empty-handed messengers are trying to rob humans of the greatest gift God gave them: free will. I am here to stop them."

"You want to save the world?" Harry deadpanned, wondering what, exactly, was wrong with his ears.

Lucifer leaned back again, picking up a brochure lying on the desk (Magic and You) and studying it absently. "What I want doesn't matter, what matters is what God wants, and what he wants, he gets, believe me, I know. All of you seem to think there are two sides with me on one and my father on the other, Hell versus Heaven. News flash, God is not sitting at this table." He threw the pamphlet away like a Frisbee; it landed on top of an old paperback Harry hadn't had a chance to finish yet. "He's the dealer standing over everything, staking the deck."

"The angels think God is gone."

"Do you not get that they're idiots. His Will imprisoned me and only His Will could free me. This brings me to my second point.

"I have a message for Samuel Winchester. I would have gone to him directly, but poor Sam is already shaky enough, I did not want to send him over the edge.

"Firstly, all that I have told you, you will relay to him. Secondly, tell him that the power I have returned to him is strictly a thank you gift and as such comes with no strings attached. Lastly, and this he should appreciate, remind him that the antichrist is not the one who heralds the end of times. That job belongs to the second coming.

"Any question?"

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

The old Fallen Angel shrugged the young man's shoulders minutely. "I wouldn't be much of a prince of lies if you could take everything I say on faith. What I expect is for you to do as I said. Anything else on your mind?"

"What about Winter?"

Another shrug. "I don't feel any pressing need to capture their flag, but I have toyed with the idea. Perhaps I will, if for nothing else than to irritate my father. I do still owe him for kicking me out."

"What about Sam killing Vendentiel?"

"I never did like Venti, but his brothers and sisters may take offence." Lucifer rose gracefully from the chair.

"How do we send you back to Hell?" The words came out in a rush. Who knew, Lucifer had answered every other question, it was worth a try.

"Now Harry, I will be keeping some secrets. Don't forget the message." He turned away, talking over his shoulder. "And good luck with the Denarians, they are _pii-iiissed_." Once he was halfway out the door, he added, "You can get up now."

Harry toppled his chair trying to go after Lucifer. By the time he made it out, the devil was gone.

It had been a singularly surprising day, Harry mused as he went down the stairs, one of his friends had destroyed a supposedly immortal entity, he'd met with both the Summer and Winter Ladies, the devil himself had come calling, and yet no one had made a single threat to his life. Should that make him hopeful for what tomorrow would bring, he wondered, or worried a about a backlog of horrors?

At the car, Dean greeted him with a grin.

"Who was your client? Sam and I have it narrowed down to an old lady who lost her dog or a philandering husband who lost his wedding band at his mistress's place."

Harry folded himself into the back seat and slammed the door shut behind him. "Just drive."

**For those of you who are wondering, Louis Moinet watches rank among the most expensive in the world. I'll stick with my battered Timex myself.**


	11. Squaring up

**Apologies for the monumental delay. Almost done though, only one more chapter after this.**

Chapter 10

"Let me see if I get this straight. Lucifer showed up at your office looking like some prep school wannabe, saying he's doing God's work, that it's not actually the apocalypse until the second coming shows up, and that the whole mess with the Denarian was his way of thanking Sam for letting him out?"

"Did anyone ever tell you you have the most interesting fan club?" concluded Harry as they pulled up to the church.

"Like yours are any better."

"Exactly. Put all of us in the same place and we end up with trouble squared."

Dean got out and slammed the door behind him.

Murphy was waiting for them. Apparently recovered from his earlier ordeal, Mouse greeted his master with a doggy grin and ran his head under Harry's hand to get pet.

"Michael and Sanya took Molly home. Kid looked pretty shaken up."

"Thanks for looking out for them, Murph. I owe you one."

"You owe me a lot more than that. Do you want to do this at your place or mine?"

"Why Karren, I had no idea you were that kind of woman. What would Jared think?"

She favoured him with a look that could send lesser men quivering in fear. "Jackass. I want a full run down of what's going on, and a good reason not to haul both their asses," she glared at Sam and Dean, "downtown right now."

Dean ran a hand over his face in exasperation and Sam looked down sheepishly.

"Fine," Harry sighed. "My place." He turned to the brothers. "Mouse and I'll ride with Murphy, you two follow us."

****

"This is messed up man. I know I've said it before, but this is really, really messed up," said Dean as they pulled out of the parking lot. "The angels are manipulative dicks, the devil says he's on our side, and then there's the whole thing with Harry."

"What thing with Harry?"

He shot his brother a look that was half-confused and half-sorrowful. "Don't get me wrong, so far, I like the guy, but come on, he's on a first name basis with fairies and he works with werewolves."

"Werewolves?"

"Yeah, the ones who ambushed you when you went after the coin. They're friends of his."

"Seriously?"

"Swear to God."

Sam leaned further back in his seat, thoughtful and somewhat worried expression on his face. "It's a little fuzzy," he said eventually, "but I think I stabbed one of them."

"In the shoulder, they said." He glanced over at the passenger side and sure enough, Sam was rapidly heading into brooding mode. No one did guilt quite like his little brother. "If it's any consolation, it wasn't bad enough to stop her walking. I don't think they hold it against you." After a moment's silence, he continued. "I just…wish I could still tell the good guys from the bad guys you know? It used to be simple, if it's supernatural, we kill it. Now, everything's switching places like some crazy musical chairs game. Angels, wizards… I'll tell you one thing though, if Dresden starts pulling vampires or zombies out of his hat, I'm gonna have to shoot him."

Sam snorted a short, dry laugh and made himself comfortable against the window.

"Damn, why couldn't it have been the philandering husband?"

***

"I should shoot them," said Murphy, jerking the steering wheel in a sharp turn.

"Come on Murph, you know what the Winchesters are up against. Even if they do everything right, is this kind of fight, it's almost inevitable that people will get caught in the crossfire."

Even though the cop part of her chaffed at the theft, fraud and breaking and entering the brothers had participated in, it was the assault and murder charges that had her frothing at the mouth. Not the got-trampled-by-a-monster-but-blaming-it-on-the-suspects incidents – she had been around Harry long enough to tell the difference – but the ones where the Winchesters had put the knife or bullet in by themselves in full knowledge. Going over their files, she had found over a dozen victims who had been shot, stabbed, even some without a single mark on them, and had mysteriously burned up from the inside. Somehow, the Winchesters had found a magic bullet, so to speak, able to kill their enemies and that left a body bag trail of innocents in its wake.

"How many people have you killed Harry? Not just gotten killed by not being strong enough or fast enough, but killed with your own hands?"

"Two," Harry admitted, not looking at his friend. "Corpstaker and Quintus Cassius." Corpstaker had been a necromancer aiming at turning himself into a god. He had swapped bodies with Luccio, captain of the White Council wardens, leaving her to die in his wounded former shell. Harry had shot him in the back, an act he was still mildly horrified he'd been capable of. Cassius, a former Denarian, had been ready to kill Harry in order to regain his former power; Harry had ordered Mouse to break the man's neck. There might have been others; when he'd laid waste to the Velvet Room, there had been humans inside; once the flames were out and bodies charred, it was impossible to tell which of them had been victims of the vampires and which were the result of the fire. For a long time, those deaths had haunted him at night, still did on occasion.

"How many of their 'casualties' do you think the Winchesters can name?"

Harry couldn't answer.

**

Sam and Dean were waiting by Harry's door when he and Karrin came down the stairs to the basement apartment, Mouse trailing after them. The two new arrivals went in right away, Murphy being one of the few people Harry trusted with an amulet that let her safely cross his wards.

Once all of them were inside, they settled on the living room's mismatched furniture. Murphy elected to remain on her feet, leaning against the side of an armchair; it was the only way for her to tower over any of the three tall men in the room, and she most certainly intended to tower over the Winchesters.

"How many people have you killed?" she asked without preamble.

"Hun?" was Dean's eloquent reply.

"I want to know how many deaths you were directly responsible for."

The hunter sighed. "Too many."

"That's not an answer. How many?" She had her cop eyes on, hard and cold.

"We don't kill people," Dean retorted, some of his fatigue chased away by irritation. "We kill monsters."

"What about demons. As I recall, last time you were here you told us they wore innocent humans as skin. In my book, that means you killed the hostages along with the bad guys."

"You can't count that. We didn't have a choice. They would have killed us." He rose to his feet and Murphy stepped forward to meet him.

"You're going to have to do better than that. After all the people who tried to kill _him_, when I asked Harry the same question, he said 'two' and he could name them."

Dean's eyes flickered to his brother for support, but Sam was staring resolutely at the carpet. The reason Sam had gone for the demon-blood induced superpowers, apart from the obvious kill-Lilith part, was because it allowed him to exorcise a demon without killing the host.

"Well maybe you haven't noticed, but we're not wizards. We're just two mortal humans. We don't have magic powers. We don't have holy knights backing us up. We don't have werewolf 'buddies' or cop friends. When we run into a werewolf, it's usually trying to eat us and the cops want to lock us up or kill us or frame us. And, sure we could save the host if the demons came at us one or two at a time, but they come by the half dozen, if they don't come as entire armies, so you'll have to forgive me if I don't just throw myself under _that_ bulldozer!"

A lifetime ago, Dean himself had said it, it frightened him how many lives he was willing to sacrifice in order to protect those he cared about, but that didn't mean he would take being judged like this. He wouldn't take it from anyone for whom salt was just a condiment instead of a survival essential, from someone who wasn't on the front line every single day of her life.

"It's the frigging Apocalypse. A few people dying is better than the whole damn world." He hated the words as they left his mouth, hated that he'd stopped seeing people as individuals with friends and loved ones and started seeing them as statistics.

And Murphy was still glaring.

"She's right," said Sam, his voice a mere whisper compared to Dean's raving quasy-shouts. He looked up. "Since we got the knife, it's gotten too easy. I saved Jimmy's wife because I knew her, but the others…" He shook his head then bowed it once more.

"Are you saying we should ditch the knife? Are you out of your mind?"

"No Dean, I'm just saying…we have to try harder. I know we can't save them all, but we have to try." Sam was begging, his eyes big and shinny, and Dean knew he wasn't just asking for them to make an extra effort, but for permission to use his freaky mind powers, to go back to doing some good with the curse he couldn't seem to shake. Dean didn't want to give his permission, really, really didn't want Sam going down that road again, even if there was no blood involved this time.

He nearly started shouting again, at his brother this time, about demon's lying, about a certain 66th seal, about learning his lesson already, but he couldn't, not in front of those puppy dog eyes and not after the day they'd just had.

Running a hand over his face, the older hunter deflated. "We'll talk about this tomorrow Sammy. I'm all for trying, but we're going to have to agree on when and how."

That, apparently, was enough for Murphy, who backed off and actually sat in the armchair this time.

"Soooooooo," started Harry, about as comfortable as a cat in the deep end of the pool. "Sharing time. Who wants to go first?"

It was touch and go at the beginning, but they were professionals, and tired and wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Harry told everyone as much as he knew about the Denarians, their members and their recent history, and repeated his encounter with Lucifer for Murphy's benefit.

The sergeant wanted to know how to prepare her people for probable attacks by the Denarians or the demons, or both. Unfortunately, making specific plans was impossible until they knew the other teams' next move. Sam used the opportunity to spread some demon-proofing advice, as well as promising to ask his friend Bobby for anti-possession charms for everyone.

Dean listened and made a few pertinent suggestions, but mostly stayed out of it. By the time they were done, he was half-asleep. Almost as soon as Harry had showed Murphy out the door, he was snoring softly.

Sam rolled his eyes at how quickly his brother had gone from sitting up straight to sprawled the full length of the small sofa. "Guess it's time I took sleeping beauty back to the motel," he commented to Dresden.

"No way. You two potentially have vengeful Denarians after you and the devil just came calling. You're not going anywhere that doesn't have a threshold tonight."

Sam thought about objecting, especially since the motel room had an actual bed waiting for him, but it had been a long day for all of them and he didn't feel like getting into an argument. "Great, that means I get the floor."

"I have some extra blankets," the wizard offered, moving to a closet and rummaging around. The blankets and pillow smelled like wildflowers, courtesy of Harry's brownie cleaning service.

"Thanks. Hey…" Sam hesitated, brow scrunched in worry. "How's Molly, honestly?"

"She'll be fine." When this wasn't enough, he continued. "Molly's a sensitive. Having a Hell creature that close to her psyche shook her up, but she's a tough kid and she has a lot of people there for her. She'll bounce back."

Still not convinced, Sam nodded anyway. "Good. I just…I don't want anyone else to be hurt because of me."

"I know the feeling."

Sam scoffed. "You don't get it man. I'm not like you. I'm dangerous. You have no idea how nasty I can get. Sure, bad things come your way and you mess up every now and again, but how many times did you cause the end of the world?"

"I'm still young."

Sam didn't laugh. He had enough of Dean weaseling his way out of serious conversations with jokes.

"I mean it. When I was a teenager, I killed a man with magic. It was self-defence, but it still made me a warlock. Back then, I was angry, rebellious and stupid, which went really well with me being as powerful as I am. I was lucky to get a good teacher who showed me right from wrong.

"A few years ago, when I was influenced by Lasciel's shadow, I got more and more aggressive and impatient, and I would have kept up with that anger if it hadn't been for my friends calling me on it. But you, like Dean said, it's just the two of you and bad things keep pilling on. At some point, a person just breaks down under that kind of pressure."

"So I'm doomed to go dark side and destroy everyone?"

"No, what I'm saying is, you have a hard job, you need a bigger support system. More people to help you in a fight, people to talk to when it gets to be too much. You can call me. Unless a monster's trying to kill me, I'll answer."

This time, the comment drew a twisted smile. "Does that make you my sponsor for Evil Anonymous?"

"Depends, want me to make us 'days since destroying the world' badges?"


	12. New beginnings

Chapter 11

Dean's head popped up over the back of the couch and he looked around bleary eyed for the source of the sudden ringing. His inspection revealed one extra large little brother lying in front of the fireplace, curled up around an enormous grey cat and with a dog at his back. Grumbling drew his attention to the wizard shuffling across the room in boxers and a loose robe.

"Dresden," the man answered gruffly, handling the phone as if it had done him a personal offense.

Dean was wondering what kind of person called this early in the morning when he notices light streaming through the window. Why couldn't morning hold off for a few more hours?

"Oh, hey Ivy." Harry cheered considerably. "How are you?" There was a pause as the person at the other end of the line spoke.

"Not bad. How's the kitten?" Ivy was the Archive, a living repository of knowledge, privy to all that had ever been written. With that knowledge came a truckload of power, power that the Denarians had tried to appropriate by kidnapping Ivy. The experience had not been pleasant, and as the current Archive happened to be a young girl who liked animals, Harry had suggested to Kincaid, her bodyguard/father-figure that something cute and furry might be beneficial.

"Really? Cats get into the strangest places." The wizard shared a look with Dean then they both looked at the now waking Sam and his pet entourage.

Harry turned serious. "I know, and I'm not asking you to take a side, I just want to know if there was ever mention of a fallen angel of the order of the blackened denarius being destroyed."

The wait was surprisingly brief.

"You sure? Right, of course you're sure. One more question, and bear in mind that I'm not asking you to tell me what it is, I just want to know if it exists. Is there any text that says how to force Lucifer back to Hell?"

This time, the answer took longer, Harry 'un huh'ing from time to time.

"Thanks Ivy. Don't forget, you can call me If you ever need anything. The kitten too. Kincaid can take care of himself."

"What was that about?" asked Sam once Harry had hung up.

"That was Ivy. I called her last night about what happened with the coin."

"She a historian or something?" Dean yawned and stretched his stiff neck.

"She's the Archive. Anything that's ever been documented in human history, she knows."

"How's that even possible?" Sam was trying to disentangle himself from his blanket without waking Mister or Mouse.

"Magic." Harry smiled.

"So, what's the word?"

"No. No, a Denarian has never been killed before, and no, there isn't any reliable information written anywhere about caging Lucifer."

"So we're basically screwed?"

"Not necessarily. Like Sam demonstrated yesterday, just because something has never been done before doesn't mean it can't be done."

"We just gotta go out there and try something new," Dean finished.

"Anybody have an idea?"

"I might have a few suggestions," said Harry.

Half an hour later, Dean was sliding _Amoracchius_ in the spot he'd made for it in the trunk of the Impala.

"You understand this is temporary right? I'm taking the sword to stop the Apocalypse, once that's done, you're getting it back. No way am I carrying this thing around for the rest of my active life."

"I believed you the first time Dean, and the second time, and the third time, and the-"

"Okay! I get it."

Sam had refused _Fidelacchius_, claiming he had enough going on that he didn't need the extra weapon, or the extra pressure. However, he did accept the amulets Harry provided, as well as the number for the para-net, an organisation a friend of the wizard had started, linking small-time practitioners so they could band together against big-time trouble. In exchange, Sam gave the other man Bobby's number and extra information on angel and demon proofing his place.

Sam caught Harry alone and asked for one last thing before they drove off.

The Winchesters were five hundred miles away by the time they stopped. Bobby had called about a series of unexplained deaths in Tennessee. Dropping his duffle at his feet, Dean crashed on the Willow Inn's green comforter.

"You hungry?" asked Sam. "I saw a sign for a fish and chips joint near by."

"Sure, pick us up something."

"You don't want to eat there?"

"Dude, I've been driving all day. Before that I chased your ass all over town, and before that you made us go through about fifty thousand books, which turned out to be useless. I'm getting some rest. Get takeout." He kicked off his boots and settled more comfortably on the bed.

"Fine. I'll pick you out a nice salad."

"Hey!" Dean shouted at his grinning brother's retreating back.

Once he was safely out of the room, Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialled he'd asked of Harry.

"Hello mister Carpenter? It's Sam Winchester. I was wondering if I would be all right for me to speak to Molly… Thank you." A few seconds later, a new speaker came on the line.

"Hi Molly. It's Sam. I wanted to, well… How are you doing?" Her reply made him smile. "What? Can't a guy check on his little sister?" He started laughing outright when she decided to introduce him to all his other 'siblings'.

Yesterday had been a hard day, and there were more difficulties ahead, but he was going to enjoy the good things while he could.

**The End, for now.**


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